Theyre not Mandibles?
It is complicated, mandibles can be a lot of things. Centipede biting / eating things are called mandibles too, in a general way. In humans (and mammalians in general), mandibles are the bones of the lower jaw. Arthropods, crustaceans and insects in general also have mandibles. But if you want to refer specifically to the mandibles of centipedes you call them forcipules. And why arachnid’s chelicerae are not called mandibles beats me. They are not insects, but they sure are arthropods. Even trilobites had mandibles.
Sometimes it seems the only thing less logically designed than all the various animals in all of Creation is all of the human terminology trying to bring (artificial) order to that animalian chaos.
I don’t believe animals are designed logically, they shaped by evolution, which is messy. The nomenclature is confusing when you don’t know the reason why things are named as they are, but there is usually a reason. Only, alas, I ignore it in this case. Ah, if we only had our late and much missed curator of critters! I am sure he would enlighten me on that one too.
Understood of course. And yes, the loss of dear @Colibri was a big blow.
As you say, and I implied, nature is messy and doesn’t give two shits for humans’ desires to place things in neat categories.
Before we had cladistics and some hope of determining the historical path of evolution, lots of things were named for how they looked similar in form or function to other things which turn out not to be similar in history at all.
As with much of chemistry, the picture of biology, anatomy, and evolution has emerged slowly by the labors of thousands of workers made over centuries and many nomenclature decisions were made way back then with the best of intentions and the best knowledge of the time. And now we’re stuck with a certain amount of a backwards compatibility problem. The old “logical names” imply a certain old logic that we now know to be at least partially fallacious. But renaming everything according to the current logical understanding is a tall undertaking, makes the historical record less accessible to future scholars, and would still need to be done again in 200 years when future scholars are chuckling at our own silly shortcomings of knowledge and logic.
It was ever, and shall ever, be thus. De grumblibus non est disputandem. There’s no good arguing about which things we choose to grumble about. And this is one of my pet grumbles. Grumble grumble grumble arrgh! 
No we didn’t!
So … I don’t know quite how to bring this up, but …
I love how they trumpet that it’s boiled! not fried!
… yeah, that was the tipping point for me.
I stand corrected and quite delighted looking at the page you linked to. Nice!
Mandibles are used for massaging edible material into something easily sent down the pie-hole (cutting, chewing). Chelicerae do not perform mechanical food preparation but are usually used for envenomation. Not always, but usually.
Sounds good, thank you. And now, looking at forcipules again, I understand LSLGuy’s grumble much better, as forcipules are not used to chew, do envenomate (what a nice word!) like chelicerae and are not even fangs or teeth at all, but modified front legs! Still they are included in the wide variety of things called mandibles. Messy nature, messy nomenclature.
But I do believe you!
This puts me of a mind about a thread we had awhile ago discussing various arthropods. Wherein one of our resident experts pointed out that the big pinchy things on lobsters are counted as legs, but the big pinchy things on scorpions are counted as mouth parts. Or vice versa, I totally forget the details. I may even have the critters themselves wrong.
But the punchline was that despite two categories of critter each having 1 big pinchy thing and 5 walking things on each side, the two categories are defined to have a different number of “legs”.
One lousy centipede? Nah.
I prefer a variety pack.
Why “millipede?” Shouldn’t it be “kilopede?”
I’m goin’, I’m goin’.
Centipede Whiskey?
That honestly didn’t hold much appeal for me.
Until.
Centipede whiskey is used in some parts of SE Asia as a Aphrodisiac
WOO-HOO!!!
Or, perhaps, “Kilmeade.” (All of the "Ewww, gross’ with absolutely none of the aphrodisiac propertiesTM.
Until recently you would always hear that despite the name, no millipede actually has 1000 legs. This changed in 2021, when Eumillipes persephone was discovered in Australia. It can have up to 1300 legs.
Let’s all take a moment in memory of the poor bastard who had to count all of those fucking legs.
“Fourty-two, fourty-four, four---- Fuck! It moved! DAMMIT, now I gotta start all over!
… hey, at least I’m paid by the hour.”
It’s all about terminology and categorization. When I learned as a kid that crabs were closely related to insects, it turned me off eating them for a while (I got over that when I went to Joe’s Stone Crab restaurant). The thought of eating a giant cockroach turned my stomach. Sometimes it’s best not to be familiar with phylogenetic trees.
Re-branding food animal names is also common so that they sell better. For example, Orange Roughy sounds slightly more appetizing than Slimehead fish (though if more people saw what they looked like alive, it may still turn them off), and Chilean Seabass looks more appealing than Patagonian Toothfish on seafood restaurant menus
And Mahi-mahi (or Dorado) is an easier sell than Dolphin, because people associate the name dolphin (fish) with porpoises (mammals), and they don’t like the thought of eating Flipper.